


Sekaiichi Blood Type

by risquetendencies



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, blood types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The men of Sekaiichi Hatsukoi discover their blood types, amongst many other hi-jinx.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sekaiichi Blood Type

"How many should I get out of the kit? Yuu, do you want to have your type tested too?"

"No need. I'm O-negative, the universal donor." Yuu smiled at his admission, giving Hatori a pointed stare. "So should anything ever happen... I'd be happy to lend some to Chiaki."

"Perhaps you should go _donate_ somewhere else, if you're so eager."

"Hmm, here it is," Chiaki murmured absentmindedly off to the side of the room as he pulled a rectangular box out of a drawer in one of the many cupboards. Though his ears must have been at least partially attuned, as he caught the conversation and eagerly responded to it.

"Uwahh, you're going to donate blood, Yuu? That's great!"

Both men stared, astounded at the selectiveness of Chiaki's thoughts.

"I wish I was brave enough to do that, but this is about all I can stand, honestly."

Yuu grinned, and Hatori's lips formed a thin line.

"I can't imagine letting someone suck that much out of me!"

Hatori's lips cambered up slightly, and Yuu looked annoyed at the implication that existed only between the two warring suitors, because it sure as hell didn't cross Chiaki's mind how sordid that had the potential of sounding.

"Anyway, I'm glad you will. It's good that people who can do, so that if someone needs it, it's there, right? Mmm - Tori, are you going to do the test, or do you know what your type is? You've never told me if you did or not!" Chiaki looked on expectantly, "If you don't know, let's do it together, okay?"

In general, Hatori was none too bothered about not knowing his blood type, but Chiaki was rarely proactive like this, so he thought he ought to encourage it. It also didn't hurt that the request was accompanied by one of the mangaka's sweeter smiles, one that he hoped Chiaki only had for him, as it would have made him burn inside to know the man showed the public a face like that. It couldn't be helped that Yanase was around - at least he wasn't using it to convince _him_ of anything.

He inclined his head to show assent, and then relocated to around the dining room table, where Chiaki was setting up the typing kit. Hatori monitored him closely at first, at least until he noticed the lancet's blade end was shielded from the user until they had pressed the injection button. This reassured him sufficiently, as he didn't think even his clumsy love interest could get into any trouble with them.

"So, what we do is poke our fingers, and then put a drop of the blood on here, and then sprinkle some of this water stuff on it and mix it. Then it should tell us which type we are!" Chiaki announced eagerly, arranging the bottles of serum so that they lay directly in front of the circle they were supposed to align with on the analysis card. He then picked up a disposable lancet, and eyed it with a frown before turning to Hatori and holding it out.

"Will you do it to me, Tori? Please? I don't think I can... by myself."

'Oh you have got to be kidding me!' thought Yuu petulantly as he watched it play out. He knew Chiaki through and through, and as unsurprised as he was by the reality of it, the wording was just too easy for Hatori to take pleasure in for his tastes.

"I will. Turn away if you need to, Yoshino."

"Please do it quickly, Tori, I don't want it to hurt for too long!"

The dark brunette averted his gaze, preferring to look outward. His free hand gripped the taller male's sleeve tightly, scrunching up the crisp fabric of his shirt.

Yuu subsequently frowned and walked over to the bookshelves to retrieve the guide Chiaki had mentioned. He scanned the first few shelves, all manga titles unsurprisingly, until he found a slim book of a more substantial appearance. It was titled _Mysteries In Our Blood_ , and the picture on the cover was of a young man and woman having their blood tested, a printed question mark over their heads as if to underline the 'mystery' portion of the tome.

Yuu turned it over in his hand. It didn't look very prepossessing, but perhaps the contents would be of more entertainment. He couldn't remember himself what the types meant, though he had used to know, probably back in middle school, when it had been popular to keep track of such things.

"Oi Chiaki, this the book?" He held it up for his friend's inspection.

"Yes, that's the one-ee-OW!"

A second later, "Is it over already? I'm glad!"

"It appears to be enough. Come, let's get it on the card." Hatori picked up one of the slips and pressed it against the bleeding finger thrice, leaving a healthy smear each time for testing.

"I thought it was going to be worse than that. Okay! I'll get mine mixed up. Tori, here's a needle for you now." Chiaki passed over one of the lancets before turning to the trio of bottles and getting to work.

"Hmm, type O." Yuu had flipped through the book to find his section. "Confident, strong-willed, emotional, dedicated, and stubborn. I'll buy that."

"That's all there is for that one?"

"I'm just reading the traits that apply to me off here, Chiaki."

"Oh."

"Here, Yoshino, you can mix mine."

Hatori handed over his card. The pricking hadn't been painful - he didn't even flinch. Seeing how happy Chiaki was at doing this little experiment, he thought he might enjoy taking charge of both of their results. If Yanase hadn't been there this afternoon would have been near perfect. The taller man casually let his arm loop around his partner. Even though they were now going out, he still felt the need to reinforce the fact for certain parties to take note of.

"Umm." Chiaki's color rose a little, but he didn't brush him off. It was a success. He held him for a few more seconds while the other man finished his mixing, and then let go.

"Yay! I see something! I think for me it's B. Yuu, what does it say for that type? Can you read off all of them first, not just a few?"

"Yep, I can." The sandy brunette flipped through a few pages in the book before finding the proper place. "Type B. Cheerful, outgoing, optimistic, active, sensitive, kind, forgetful, undecided, disorganized, and spontaneous."

"Cool! So which ones suit me?"

Hatori and Yuu, oddly enough, responded in unison. "All of them."

"What! I'm not undecided!"

"Oh yes you are."

"Hmmph. I guess sometimes I can _maybe_ be disorganized," Chiaki admitted. "Anyway... I bet you're probably a different type, ne, Tori? You're not forgetful at all... though," he lowered his voice shyly, "You are kind, I would say."

Hatori had to smile at that. It was just too gratifying to hear that from the man he loved.

"Let us see." He picked up his card to examine it. In each of the bubbles, the solution showed up clear, which puzzled him.

"Yoshino, are you certain you mixed this one properly?"

"Oh!" Chiaki took the card from him, turning it this way and that. "I thought I did, but if nothing's coming, then that means..."

"Tori, you're type O! Just like Yuu! Isn't that neat?"

There were many adjectives the editor could think of to describe this coincidence, but none of them were approaching neat.

 

* * *

 

It was official. Takano-san had gone off the deep end this time!

One, Onodera Ritsu, ever the victim to these merciless attacks, understood that the new campaign that the editor in chief had proposed was nothing more than a thin screen to cover up Takano's devious foray.

The problem being, and Takano knew very well, that because the campaign was work-related, Ritsu couldn't refuse to participate. He would have to go along with it, and suffer the consequences of his involvement. Ritsu could already see where this was headed, and he was none too pleased by the knowledge.

Takano-san had decided that they, the Emerald office, were going to have their blood types tested, in an attempt to get into the mindset of their readers. Blood type was a very prominent facet in character descriptions in manga, and each type was said to have a distinct personality associated with it.

Hatori-san was the first to defect, meaning that there was one less person between Takano and him getting tested.

Ritsu had never been extremely fond of needles, and the fact that it was that man daring to come near with one to stick him made it all the more worse. He didn't know what his old senpai was thinking - AS IF them possibly having compatible blood types would make him say those three blasted words!

"Sir, I have already determined my type. Might I be excused? I'll be going to check up on Yoshikawa Chiharu's progress."

"I suppose. Write it into the register however before you leave. That will suffice."

Like the prey he unfortunately was, Ritsu was willing to attempt any means of escape. He decided on the direct approach, having been inspired by his co-worker.

"Takano-san, I also already know my type, so I too should be excu-"

"Men who can't lie shouldn't keep floundering around in an attempt, Onodera. Sit down, and don't be such a whiny baby about this."

"What!"

Takano eyed him speculatively. "Onodera, do you take this job seriously?"

"Of course I do," Ritsu answered, feeling his choler rising slightly. He was beginning to sense there was no chance at evasion, and it ticked him right off.

"And is it not important that we understand our audience in order to accurately and efficiently approach the compilation of our volumes?"

"It is."

"In particular, fans are always clamoring for statistics about their favorite characters. Also, a few of our authors, who in fact we work closely with, if you hadn't noticed..."

"I noticed."

"For an indeterminable reason, the women have have banded together to request our types. Birthday and other information they seem to have uncovered on their own time. So if you claim to know all this, take the job seriously. Take your card and go wait for your turn. I'll call you."

Ritsu, leaving himself open for the cruel machinations of fate, did as was told, although he didn't go happily. He made his way back to his desk area, card clutched in hand, and dreading when this would begin. He hoped it didn't require a lot of blood...

"I want to see when Takano-san _pokes_ Ricchan! Ah Mino-san, what do you suppose? Do you think he'll faint? He looks pretty pale already!"

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO SEE THAT?" It seemed he could expect no sympathy from his coworkers at this time.

"Oh, look, he's regained some color, Kisa-san!" Mino pointed out, indicating the angry flush that had tinted the rookie editor's cheeks when he had burst out shouting. He smiled in his usual way, turning to address his moe-type coworker, "I think Onodera-san will come through with spirit, so you may become disappointed with your side of the wager. If you want to make that bet official, of course!"

Kisa's eye twitched slightly.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place! Mino seemed confident in his stance, which probably meant he would lose the bet, and quite frankly his pockets were feeling strapped lately, being that it was summer and there were a whole slew of weddings to pay tribute for. On the other hand, that tone of voice told him that he really had no other choice than to accept the bet, lest he ruffle one of his fellow editor's feathers. And he knew well enough not to do that!

"Why would you want my money, Mino-san? Trying to save up to buy something for your special someone?"

"Oh, no. We prefer to exchange favor coupons, more from the heart. I have been considering investing in a tent, though."

"A tent? Going camping?"

"In a manner of speaking, Kisa-san. So, are we on?"

"Ricchan, are you feeling light-headed at all?"

"It's SO NICE to know I have such CARING friends around here! I can't tell you how NICE it is!"

"Onodera, keep your damned voice down. I'm concentrating over here. You two, no gambling in the work place! If you want to throw money around, go and buy company stock."

"Ah-ha-ha, pardon! I'm going to step out to make a copy!" Kisa leapt up from his swivel chair and hightailed it to the room in question, leaving a gaping Ritsu, smiling Mino, and completely unperturbed Takano in his wake.

His money was safe. At least until he mistakenly opened his mouth about a bet again. He really had to stop doing that!

Kisa leaned over the nearest copy machine, hugging it as if it were his solitary companion left in the world - it felt like it at certain times.

Particularly during Hell Week, when more often than not if he had to venture out this way, he ended up passing out over top of it just like this in the middle of a copy run. When you were a manga editor, you acquired special skills, like sleeping mostly standing up. It was about as comfortable as the floor, but more convenient because he didn't have to waste the calories picking himself up after collapsing - he could just straighten up a little and walk back to the office.

A sudden insistent buzzing in his pocket alerted him, and he stopped slouching and stood up properly, digging one hand into the pocket to retrieve his vibrating phone. Why had he put it on the vibrate feature again?

 _Oh_.

Kisa grinned to himself, recalling the reason with vivid clarity.

He had been training his princely boyfriend in the delicate art of control, and the phone was an unexpected accessory to the lesson. The gentle, rhythmic vibrations it produced were enough to entice, but not to overwhelm, and had served perfectly in prolonging Yukina's pleasure for as long as he wanted him to wait before he swooped in to finish the man off.

"Hey," he answered the phone. "Are you at home?" His thinking being that maybe if the boss was going to be distracted with typing Ricchan for a while, he might be able to sneak off for a few minutes to take this call in private.

"Oh no, sorry, I had to go into work for a few hours."

Kisa hummed in disappointment, but said nothing of it. "I see. Well, is everything okay on your end?"

"Yes. I just wanted to say hello since Kisa-san managed to slip off to work this morning before I woke up."

The man in question extended one hand behind his head to latch in his hair, as if he were there in person, ready to make apologies. "You looked like you were sleeping great so I didn't want to wake you up. Sorry about breakfast - I didn't have any either, until I got here."

"That's fine. I would have liked to see you go, but it was kind of you to let me be. I feel refreshed, haha, after a long night. I hope you got some coffee, Kisa-san, because if you still woke up at the usual time, you must be tired."

"I-I'm fine."

"And your body?"

"That's fine, too," he replied evenly. "Speaking of bodies, my boss is having us get our fingers pricked to test for our blood type today. Crazy, huh?"

"Really, Kisa-san? That's neat! You'll have to tell me what yours is as soon as you find out, all right?"

"Can't it wait till I get home?"

"Well, of course that would be fine, Kisa-san! I'm just excited. I hadn't thought about asking but now that you've brought it up, I would love to hear your blood type!"

Just then, his ears picked up on a resounding yell from the other room, "TAKANO-SAN! DID YOU HAVE TO DO IT LIKE THAT? IT HURTS!"

Kisa couldn't help but snicker. "Oh damn, I missed the poking! It was going to be so fun, too."

Which evidently confused Yukina. "... Kisa-san? What are you talking about? What is going on there?"

One. Two. Three. He realized how that may have sounded, and went on damage control. "Haha, Yukina, now don't get the wrong idea. I meant I missed watching Takano-san poke Ricchan! Err, as in with a needle, to find out his blood type, like I mentioned! Not in any other way."

"I see. Well if that's all it is," Yukina trailed off, sounding appeased. For once Kisa was glad of his boyfriend's easygoing personality.

"I'll text you when it's my turn and I find out my type, Yukina. For now I have to get back to work."

"Of course! Have a wonderful rest of the day at work, Kisa-san. _I'll be waiting for you after_."

Kisa Shouta, being a worldly thirty years in age, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, having been coaxed into a monogamous relationship for the incredible amount of time he had been, was well aware what that tone meant when his prince used it. Subsequently he didn't feel so disappointed about having missed this opportunity. Oh well. He'd take being pounded into various pieces of his furniture over a few stolen phone sessions any day.

"Right. Well, bye."

"Goodbye. I love you."

He quickly peered around in the hallway. No one seemed to be nearby... fine.

"I love you too."

He hung up quickly, pulse racing a little faster. At least _that_ was over the phone. He wasn't sure if he would have survived the sparkle storm that would have followed a similar disclosure face-to-face. He was barely getting used to saying the phrase, and like with certain other things Kisa wouldn't mention, Yukina's enthusiasm tended to bubble over rapidly when he was involved.

It was time he went back.

When Kisa returned to the main area of the Emerald office, Takano-san was already back at his desk, Mino was still grinning at his, and Ricchan had apparently given up the histrionics as he was back to his mild self, having just greeted one of the company task boys that had delivered a stack of mail to him.

The part-timer in question was of an average sort of height, perhaps a little taller, with spiky chocolate brown hair, and eyes that were surprisingly verdant, rather like Onodera's. Ritsu introduced him as Takahashi Misaki.

"Thanks for bringing up the mail! So, Takahashi-kun, in the spirit of blood type day, do you know what yours is?" Kisa grinned encouragingly, thinking to salve a little of his co-worker's ire by showing him that it was nothing to get uptight for.

Oh did he...

Misaki had been subjected to the horrors of a typing test just last night, wherein he had found out he was type A, not that that bolstered him any against the sting of the needle.

And after that ordeal, his horny rabbit had licked Misaki's finger clean, which subsequently led to another, more strenuous ordeal. Misaki shifted uncomfortably at the reminiscing. After all, the thing Usagi-san had licked the most certainly hadn't been his finger!

The young man blanched as he recalled the author's broad insistent tongue curling around him just before his entire mouth sucked Misaki's length in, that same appendage laving at his nipples, and even pistoning inside his quivering entrance until he could no longer keep from calling out.

No, that tongue had been a weapon of persuasion, preparing and silencing him in almost equal measure so that his resistance levels were way down by the time Usagi-san tried to thrust his this and that into him and make his this and that wet and sticky.

UGH! Why was he thinking about this?

"Ah, err, excuse me!" he burst out suddenly, sweeping the editors a sloppy, quick bow. His face was steadily turning pink, and the topic wasn't appropriate to be thinking about here, in public, so he needed to move! Not that he wanted to think about _it_ more at all! Just, for posterity's sake!

"I forgot that I need to go back and check on some erasable staplers! Ganbatte!"

He then scurried off in the opposite direction, all but sprinting to the nearest elevator.

"Strange boy," remarked Kisa, once they had recovered from the whirlwind exit. "Erasable staplers... I would wonder if it was something I said, but all I asked him was what his blood type was."

"Maybe he's afraid of needles," Ritsu muttered darkly, turning back to his workspace, nursing his pricked finger tenderly.

He aimed a death wish in Takano's general direction and then booted up his laptop. Even with all the shenanigans running amok in Marukawa, it still was a work day, meaning he needed to get his responsibilities taken care of before too long unless he wanted to end up on overtime. Being that it was only the second week of the cycle, Onodera was not gunning to start with that exhaustive nonsense now. He truly wanted to sleep in his bed at some point this month.

"Onodera, come over here."

'Already?'

Sighing purposefully at a loud volume, he dragged himself out of his chair and walked to the back of the space to stand beside Takano's desk, where he'd arranged the three cards with his, Ritsu's, and Mino's results.

"That was quick. So, which is it?"

"Type A for you. For me, B, it would appear..." the editor in chief murmured.

Hah! Ritsu didn't know the finer points but he was positive that from both medical and personality standpoints, A and B were one of the worst matches. And given that Takano-san had surely proposed this whole debacle with the idea of testing compatibility... Ritsu was feeling rather pleased with himself.

"Completely incompatible!" He announced this with flourish.

"Ah, it's sweet to know that you were thinking about that aspect."

'WHAT?' the brunette shouted inwardly. How dare the man try to pretend like this was genuinely something concocted for work purposes! He wasn't going to believe it!

"Even so, you know what they say, Onodera. _Opposites attract_."

"Takano-san." Ritsu gritted his teeth in annoyance, and requested unflinchingly, "Would you kindly take your hand off my ass?"

One day, he vowed he would quit this accursed job.

 

* * *

 

"Gooooood afternoon, Kirishima-san! I hope you are working hard!"

Isaka barged in joyfully, sending the door slamming against the opposite wall with a loud bang. From the force even he jumped a little, but certainly not as much as the two men in the office jumped when he arrived there. Figuratively speaking of course, for had it been literal, that might have led to an unfortunate accident, given how they were intertwined.

It would appear that he had interrupted something heated, which of course, delighted him.

It was fantastic leverage, should he ever require such evidence for his workplace machinations. Also, the president was a bit of what one might call a tease, and the discontent he could feel radiating from at least one of the players was making him positively giddy. Add in the cherry on top that was his occasional voyeuristic inclinations, and this was a beautiful tableau to have discovered.

The head editor of _Japun_ appeared to be more of the aggressor, despite his position.

He was seated in the magnificent desk chair that he had brought in specially upon his appointment, arms wrapped like vines around his dark-haired and dark-cloud carrying partner, and smiling tersely. Aforementioned partner was openly scowling at Isaka from over top Kirishima's lap, although that didn't mask the tight posture and faint flush of the face that indicated his humiliation.

Yokozawa's shirt was completely unbuttoned down the front, his suit jacket nowhere to be found, though Ryuuichirou supposed the floor was hosting it at the moment.

When he had made his way into the room, and before the few seconds it taken for them process just how busted they were had transpired, he had noted that frowning countenance twisted with an entirely different emotion; the other's lips who were smiling at him now had been attached to one dun nipple, tasting it with a teasing erratic-ness that reminded the President of his rare forays as a top in the bedroom, or simply when he was in that mood whilst bottoming.

When not a night for making love, Kaoru was rather accommodating with his sensual antics, and Isaka wouldn't have had it any other way. There was a special sort of joy when he managed to incite a smile or a guttural moan out of his at-times stoic lover.

At the moment though, he was enjoying teasing _them_.

"Oh dear…"

"Oh dear is all you have to say?"

"What about 'keep going?'"

"Fuck off and die! Now hold still, so I can get up!"

"I don't recommend doing that. Won't it be rougher on you if you don't wait until it's soft to take it out? Not that you can't take a little pain, after all, you've proved you can many times over, but I'm really just concerned…"

"If you were concerned, you would have locked the door like you said you did!" Yokozawa growled out.

Isaka hummed with glee, standing a little on the tips of his toes as he leaned against the nearest wall, arms folded. Oh, had he hit the jackpot today!

"WHAT! DAMN IT KIRISHIMA, HOW ARE YOU STILL HAR-?"

"Oh, you should know that once I've started with you I _always_ see things through, Yokozawa," Kirishima answered lightly, pushing aside his desire to use the man's given name in light of the fact that they were already quite exposed enough, and he didn't want to overtax the younger man with undue embarrassment at their familiarity. Well, more familiarity than they had already achieved by being caught in the middle of a tryst that was.

To be fair, Takafumi hadn't been on board with the idea to begin with, though after a while he had come round.

Hiyori was off school and his wonderful daughter had been hosting a three-night sleepover recently, which had curtailed any privacy the men might have had with which to do these things at home. Zen did have to wonder at how children were so marvelous at convincing their parents to acquiesce to these things - the sleepover had been for one night originally, but then after that, the girls couldn't bear to be parted, and Hiyo had implored him to extend it one night, and then a night after that. He was such an understanding and adoring father that he had agreed.

By the time Yokozawa had inopportunely stormed up to his office earlier that afternoon to argue about one of his underling's sales proposals, Kirishima had had enough of being a grown-up. He had subsequently devolved to the desires and personality of his horny teenage self - a side that appeared more often these days, he had to admit. All he had wanted was 'in' and his focus had been thrown entirely into charming the pants off his hot-and-cold lover.

Things had gone so well in that respect that he supposed it was a given that they should go wrong in some way, as evidenced by Isaka's arrival. And now Takafumi was cross with him, and he had barely sunk his rigid arousal into those hot, enticing depths when it happened. He wondered if he'd be allowed to finish.

Second to this line of reasoning was that he himself was reluctant to give any more away to the mischievous President. He did not relish sharing.

His hand drifted lazily south to grip Takafumi's hip, holding it in place as he gave a mild thrust upward. Yokozawa might have slapped him if he didn't fear the sadistic bastard would mistake it as part of the package.

"So, Isaka-san, what brings you here to my office?" he inquired with a polite front, though all Kirishima Zen wished for at that moment was that the man would blissfully make himself scarce.

"I was taking a walk, and I stopped in at the Emerald office, which was fascinating! Not productive, but fascinating all the same. After that, then I perused Sales, and well, I figured I should make the whole rounds, just to be certain, so here I am." He held his arms open wide as if the other two men should start chucking bouquets of flowers at him on his non-existent stage.

"So there you are," Yokozawa interjected pointedly, brow twitching. He was engaging a completely different atmosphere with his words.

"Why, did you know? In Emerald, they're having this delightful little sideshow down there concerning blood types! I was considering joining in, but, you know, there's never enough time for supervisors!" Isaka chuckled heartily, waving one hand as if to similarly brush away the mere _ghost_ of the thought of his participating.

"In all sincerity though, we will be having a heads meeting tomorrow regarding Ijuiin-sensei's latest drama CD offer; the time is set for 9 AM, so that is truly what I came to tell you. I would stay longer and chat, but it seems you are both rather preoccupied, so I'll jet. Please continue, and don't mind my intrusion. I'll be sure to lock the door behind me - you never know who may come knocking, after all!"

Yokozawa flashed him a rather impressive glare at that one, and the executive backpedaled just a hare, his smile taking over to mask any discomfiture. He stood up tall, never one to shrink down at a challenge - _or_ let himself be intimidated by an inferior - and made a mock bow before averting his twinkling eyes and turning to depart.

Yes, he would never be caught off guard by any of his employees.

Unless of course it was Asahina, waiting for him just at the elevators with the look of a harried owner coming to collect the pet that loves to jump fences and run along from home. Though, this pet was rather in the mood to be caught at the present time, particularly after what he had just witnessed.

"Ryuuichirou-sama."

Isaka happily enjoyed the soft strength of his partner's voice. The way he said his name never failed to please the ear. It flowed so naturally from the man's loving tongue.

"I have no idea how you have stretched a twenty-minute lunch break into an hour, but there are many pressing things that require your attention."

"I find that a nice stroll around my company eases the old digestion," Isaka quipped.

"Very well, sir. However, I must humbly request that you return to your office now, and focus yourself on working hard."

"You know what? Asahina, I'll make you a deal. Come back with me, and I'll show you how hard I can work... 'kay?"

He grinned pointedly, the wheels already turning nonstop in his brain as for how he could make his desires come to fruition.

"I do believe in fairness, and since I've taken an hour lunch today, you may do the same, although I _humbly request_ you confine your exercise to within my office. I'm sure I can think of a few strenuous activities that might suffice to get you sweating!"

And despite the fact that his Ryuuichirou-sama had certifiably never possessed a humble bone in his body, Asahina found himself, once more, ready to indulge the wicked man that he was hopelessly in love with.

**.**

**.**

**THE END.**


End file.
